There hadn’t been a good opportunity before—if a ghost really showed up, he might not have been able to handle it alone.
But now, with the three of them together, the situation was perfect.
Two against one. No matter who had a problem, they wouldn’t escape a mixed double beatdown. If push came to shove, he’d stab them with the pitchfork.
“Who’s first?”
Ying Yu calmly reached out and touched it. The cold emanating from the trident was so intense it nearly froze his blood, but the texture under his fingers was indeed solid and icy.
Although he wasn’t actually hurt, it confirmed one fact: holy relics were exclusive.
Other than the rightful owner, anyone who held it for too long would definitely suffer backlash.
Shen Zhiyi stared at it for a few seconds and said, “Let me try.”
Zhou Qi’an felt a flicker of strangeness. Normally this wasn’t unusual—but Shen Zhiyi never wasted words.
With his style, he would have simply reached out without saying a thing. There was no need for that one extra sentence.
The doubt only lasted for a moment before Zhou Qi’an’s mind suddenly “saw” something before his eyes did:
The glow on the relic’s surface suddenly brightened slightly. That distinct, slender hand briefly tightened around the relic, and then the light faded.
In his field of vision, Shen Zhiyi grasped the relic—and nothing happened.
At the same time, Ying Yu frowned slightly.
Something felt off. After Shen Zhiyi spoke that sentence, an image had somehow appeared in his mind—completely unbidden.
Cognitive manipulation.
A horrifying realization surfaced.
Before questioning whether the other was even human, Ying Yu first thought of the villagers and children who’d been controlled—this ability was strikingly similar to Shen Zhiyi’s.
If he wasn’t a ghost in disguise, why use cognitive manipulation?
Ying Yu narrowed his eyes and happened to see Shen Zhiyi looking right at him—a faint warning in his gaze.
Suddenly, Ying Yu thought of a comparison: Zhou Qi’an’s mother, who dug eighty-one escape holes.
No matter the reason, Ying Yu didn’t believe that Skin Monster monsters could both possess bodies and alter cognition at once. His deep game knowledge told him these disguising abilities had clear ranks—an ordinary creature couldn’t have both.
Shen Zhiyi didn’t bother using extra force to break Ying Yu’s protective items. Smart as he was, a small hint was enough.
Sure enough, Ying Yu merely kept a trace of suspicion. When Zhou Qi’an took back the relic, he said nothing.
The group continued moving forward.
The mist from the hot springs seemed to drift this way, and the humidity in the air kept rising.
Through the fog, they could faintly see the solemn outline of the white church. A village woman still respectfully bowed toward it.
Almost there.
The players took a deep breath.
Zhou Qi’an raised his head and stared at the intact church, recalling Kou Tuo’s information—there was an additional “unwritten rule” in the instance: at least one female player must survive, at least temporarily.
Otherwise, the sacrificial ritual couldn’t be initiated.
Failing this would directly affect their ability to clear the instance.
The church, shrouded in mist, felt almost alive—as if the moisture breathed life into it, making the whole building seem ready to wake at any moment.
Before entering, the female teacher unconsciously slowed her steps.
Her voice was complicated:
“The Holy Maiden was harmed… what does she want revenge on us for?”
Zhou Qi’an happened to pass by her and answered with certainty, convinced that Fengshui Village’s water lowered intelligence.
“What are we?”
The female teacher was about to say “players,” but then remembered their in-game identities.
They were experts—sent here specifically to solve the village’s problems. Naturally, they stood on the opposite side of the Holy Maiden.
The Holy Maiden had been killed by old customs—and now used those very customs to shackle the villagers.
The accomplices would be treated no differently.
Today’s ritual was clearly more formal than yesterday’s.
Inside the church, more vessels had been added. Several ancient, large vats had been dragged in from who knew where.
Each vat’s surface was painted with mysterious sacrificial scenes—kneeling figures raising their hands in supplication. Their faces were blurred, but the terror they radiated was unmistakable.
The elder villagers—including the chief—stood in linen robes, each holding a special bone staff. Most of the other villagers had gathered as well.
A village woman stepped forward and whispered something to the chief before retreating into the ritual procession.
The chief slowly raised his drooping eyelids and looked at the players standing at the entrance.
A moment later, he pulled a strange smile but didn’t immediately put on his terrifying blue mask. Instead, he beckoned to them.
The group hesitated briefly, then moved forward in unison, maintaining a straight line.
So much had happened over the last 48 hours.
The chief’s back looked even more hunched. He bent low, his neck twisting upward unnaturally, as if broken.
The players were forced to meet his dark, gloomy gaze.
“…Today’s blessing ritual will take a little longer than yesterday’s.” His suppressed tone made everyone uneasy. His gaze lingered on the three female players. “For the ceremony’s completeness… someone must play the role of the Holy Maiden.”
The three women he stared at all reacted differently—the youngest girl even shuddered.
Not only was the ritual more elaborate today—its participants were being more precisely chosen.
After a slight pause, the chief’s gaze settled on Xu Gui.
“Then this expert will do.”
A flicker of shock crossed Xu Gui’s beautiful face. The choice was so unexpected that she forgot to hide her surprise.
By contrast, the female teacher let out a deep breath. On the way here, she’d secretly slipped a gold ring to a village woman—asking her to offer it to the chief as compensation for the burnt yard.
Her skill lowered her perceived presence with NPCs—though unreliable at times, it could save lives.
The young girl glanced at Kou Tuo and exchanged a subtle look—both relaxing slightly.
This result surprised not only Xu Gui but also Zhou Qi’an.
From the hot spring experience, the first and last participants were actually the safest. Aside from his own lucky draw, the chief sparing Xu Gui meant her favorability rating was fairly high.
A dangerous role like this shouldn’t have fallen to her.
Suddenly, Xu Gui glanced sharply at Kou Tuo, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Kou Tuo, standing beside her, leaned in and whispered so only they could hear:
“Miss Xu, you should’ve agreed to cooperate with me yesterday.”
He hadn’t told Zhou Qi’an everything.
In truth, there was another detail: the number of female players determined the number of rituals; and in each one, the player chosen as Holy Maiden was almost certainly doomed.
They were immune to other church death rules precisely because their destined death awaited on the altar.
When only one female player remained, she would hear a great secret from the chief.
Clearly, after Xu Gui’s rejection, Kou Tuo had turned to the young girl.
Just now, she’d taken a small risk—secretly smearing a bit of animal dung into her hair.
This ruined the bathing effect and lowered her chance of being chosen for the altar.
But…
“This might cause some minor trouble,” the young girl murmured to herself.
Still—the risk was acceptable. Compared to the near-certain death on the altar, this was far easier to handle.
Zhou Qi’an quietly watched their exchange, especially focusing on Kou Tuo, Xu Gui, and the young girl.
He muttered softly to Shen Zhiyi:
“Scheming without inviting me, huh.”
Who did they think they were underestimating?
Two pale village women stepped forward—one on each side of Xu Gui.
“Please come with us.”
Their tone was pure command.
Xu Gui lowered her head, her fingertips lightly rubbing a corner of her clothing, lost in thought.
The village women urged her again, their tone growing impatient.
Finally, Xu Gui moved, walking toward the altar amid some sympathetic glances.
As she passed Zhou Qi’an, she paused briefly, whispering in a voice only they could hear:
“Be ready.”
Zhou Qi’an frowned slightly.
“Ready for what?”
Xu Gui walked straight ahead, leaving behind only a cold and slender figure.
No one could see her expression clearly, but everyone had an unobstructed view of the altar.
The center of the altar dipped slightly, resembling a tray. Yesterday, Sister Zhao’s shattered remains had been laid there; today, a living person was about to take her place.
Ding.
Dong.
Ding-dong—
The sound, like mountain springs flowing, drew everyone’s attention away from Xu Gui.
The water vats served as instruments. The village chief led the way, tapping them skillfully. The natural murmuring of water, which should have been calming, reverberated through the empty church until it sent chills down their spines.
Each swing of the bone staff sent water droplets flying from the vats. The instant they shattered in midair, a fine mist spread, creating an invisible veil of fog between each person.
A cold mechanical voice blended perfectly into the mountain-like melody, making everyone’s heart freeze.
[Main Quest: Sampling]
Quest Objective:
Collect no less than 200 milliliters of pure holy water from the vats. After the ceremony ends, bring the holy water to Team Leader Miss Shen for processing and testing with professional equipment.
Tip: Processed holy water can be used to dispel curses.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze flickered.
He glanced at the others; their expressions were much the same.
A curse—not a spell. The wording emphasized the concept of a “brand” or “mark.”
This all but confirmed their earlier suspicions.
NPC memories never contained useless details; that wooden stake the villagers kept mentioning was most likely the source vessel of the curse.
Once they obtained the “strong detergent” and found the cursed stake, they could finally escape this instance.
[Quest Tool: Sampling Bottle Issued.]
A cold, small object appeared in each player’s hand.
[Sampling Bottle: Marked with measurement lines, heat-resistant, essential for contamination checks.]
Everything else was fine—but the words “heat-resistant” immediately made everyone wary.
Bad omens in this game never missed.
Almost the moment they finished reading the notification, the temperature in the air shot up without warning.
Ding!
The villagers struck the vats with even more enthusiasm, completely unaffected by the drought or heat. Their stiff masks seemed to come alive, their mouths curling upwards—wild and instinctual movements breaking free.
Barefoot, they danced wildly, like demons set loose—high-pitched and frenzied.
In this grotesque feast, the swirling mist around the altar was the most terrifying. No one could see Xu Gui’s face clearly—let alone judge if she was alive or dead.
Zhou Qi’an felt his skin burning, as if he were a crab about to be steamed alive.
“So hot…”
Of all of them, only the female teacher looked fine. In contrast, the young girl was probably suffering because she’d smeared filth in her hair—thus lacking immunity to the church’s death rules.
Another crisp sound rang out.
It wasn’t the villagers’ music.
A rubbing noise started along the pillars from ceiling to floor; the skulls hung as decorations all around began to stir.
The female teacher’s face darkened. “Force our way through?”
Both the villagers and the skeletons formed insurmountable obstacles.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze moved quickly through the mist. He knew there was a “third mountain” as well—
Their teammates, hiding in the fog, possibly wearing human skin, waiting to stab them in the back.
He tried to make a final confirmation. Zhou Qi’an had a suspect—but couldn’t figure out where the person had triggered the death rule.
This uncertainty made it impossible to commit fully.
“Wait.”
Shen Zhiyi spoke calmly in a voice only the two of them could hear. “Whoever charges out first is the monster.”
In this heat, every second was torture.
But Zhou Qi’an… could endure.
After swallowing the Heart of Devouring Love on his second dungeon run, his heat resistance had massively increased. According to system data, he could even survive long-term in 60-degree water.
As long as he didn’t rush, he wouldn’t be stabbed in the back.
Shen Zhiyi was even more relaxed, standing quietly to the side, the only sign of discomfort a slight frown at the villagers—finding the noise annoying.
Kou Tuo seemed suspicious as well—or at least hesitant—remaining frozen like a statue.
Everyone stood still as if playing a silent staring contest.
In the end, the young girl couldn’t take it anymore and began panting quickly. “Stop wasting time.”
Her body’s water and energy were steadily draining away.
A Little Red Riding Hood member said gravely, “We should go in pairs—one covers, one samples.”
It was the most logical plan.
He waited for the moment when the dancing villagers and skeletons spread apart slightly, took advantage of the lower temperature, and gave the young girl a signal. Both dashed out swiftly to complete the task.
Someone was even faster than them.
A flash of cold light gleamed—an instant later, a thin line appeared on the neck of the Little Red Riding Hood member who lagged a half-step behind the girl.
Ying Yu materialized behind him—a tall man, half a head taller—holding a slender blade.
The gleaming knife pressed against the vulnerable neck. Ying Yu didn’t hesitate—he slashed.
No spray of fresh blood.
It felt limp, like cutting into a flour sack.
The young girl jumped in shock.
The slashed Little Red Riding Hood member abruptly halted, then slowly turned around after several seconds. His urgency had vanished; his voice was cold.
“What are you doing?”
A layer of skin peeled back on his neck.
Underneath was another layer—pale, stiff, faint reddish corpse spots visible beneath.
Ying Yu said evenly, “It’s rude to steal a girl’s hair.”
The young girl froze, quickly reaching for her hair—finding that the small, dirt-smeared lock had somehow been cut off without her noticing.
Her throat tightened. When they’d planned to split into pairs, only one person had gotten close enough to take it.
Two skins on one person—even an idiot would know this “player” was no longer human.
But why take only the dirty hair?
Staring at the Little Red Riding Hood member in horror, the young girl suddenly understood his plan—the quest required collecting pure holy water.
If the water in the vat became contaminated…
She didn’t even dare to imagine the consequences.
Ying Yu focused on handling the Skin Monster.
Kou Tuo yanked the young girl back. “We’ll collect the sample.”
Then he glanced sharply at the female teacher.
“You stay and help deal with this thing.”
One extra person to guard—so the Skin Monster couldn’t jump into another player’s body.
The moment Ying Yu struck, Zhou Qi’an was already thinking about how to fetch the water.
Kou Tuo had moved out—but they couldn’t rely on him alone.
The skeletons were starting to dance dangerously close. One thing the Skin Monster had said was true: someone had to provide cover.
The problem was—who?
Fetching water was relatively safe. Fighting the skeletons, not so much.
“I’ll cover you.” Shen Zhiyi flexed his fingers; black mist turned into thin gray-white threads—matching his eye color—silently wrapping toward the skeletons.
“You get the water.”
“I…”
“We’re out of time.”
Zhou Qi’an’s expression hardened—the water in the vats was evaporating.
He dashed forward, whispering to steady himself and reassure Shen Zhiyi:
“I’m the fastest man alive. I can do this.”
“…”
On the other side, the young girl covered Kou Tuo, quickly adding, “Mr. Kou Tuo—believe in yourself, you’re fast too.”
Kou Tuo: “…”
This pointless competition was truly unnecessary.
Before the words fully faded, Zhou Qi’an had already reached the front.
Shen Zhiyi kept perfectly within three meters of him, somehow drawing all the skeletons’ attention.
The floor’s temperature had soared. As Zhou Qi’an ran, the top layer suddenly melted away—revealing thick bronze pillars beneath. His body lurched, almost falling into the boiling water between the columns.
Dozens of bronze pillars now replaced the original brick floor, the gaps between them wide.
Luckily, Zhou Qi’an’s body had partially evolved, freeing him from the cerebellum’s limitations—perfect for tightrope-like movements.
“So hot…”
A modern version of the ancient torture of walking on burning iron.
Though Zhou Qi’an’s resistance far exceeded anyone else’s here, he still couldn’t help muttering.
He vaguely heard Kou Tuo groaning from pain too—but didn’t dare glance back.
The floor’s disappearance thickened the mist.
He summoned his white silk cloth, laying it down to block some heat—any protection was better than none.
Running atop it, Zhou Qi’an sighed in his heart at the cloth:
“Since you followed me, you’ve had no easy days.”
No matter—it was the fate of all tools.
White silk: ?
The vat was within reach!
The moment Zhou Qi’an rushed over, he twisted open the bottle cap, ready to scoop up the holy water and run at top speed.
Just as he reached out—he froze.
The vat was empty.
He looked again.
No, there was water—just a thin layer at the very bottom.
Unfortunately, this vat was massive—probably not much smaller than the one Sima Guang had smashed back in the day.
Zhou Qi’an gritted his teeth. “What kind of ridiculous quest is this?”
Even with the current high temperature, there was no way the water could’ve evaporated that much in such a short time—unless there hadn’t been much in the vat to begin with.
To collect the water, he’d have to cling tightly to the rim of the vat, practically submerging half his body inside before he could reach it.
Ding-dong!
A heavy ringing slammed into his eardrums.
Zhou Qi’an looked up—an eerie mask loomed right in front of him.
…It was the village chief.
Through the mist, Zhou Qi’an recognized the cluster of flesh tumors on his face.
“Honored expert…” The village chief’s hoarse voice rose unnaturally high, dripping with mockery. “What do you think of the water quality in our village?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the chief raised a bony staff high into the air. That crisp ding-dong from earlier seemed to carry some kind of magic—Zhou Qi’an’s head was spinning, his nerves vibrating with it.
The world tilted around him.
The massive bone club came crashing down—aimed directly at his temple.
At some point, a village woman had crept up behind him, her large hands just about to shove his thin back forward.
Zhou Qi’an bit down hard on the tip of his tongue, using the pain to stay conscious.
He had no choice but to try leaping to another pillar.
Just as his leg kicked out, Zhou Qi’an squinted—he thought he saw something surprising.
A shadow.
There were two shadows beneath the village chief’s feet.
One of them stood out unnaturally in the mist. It rose up from the ground, slowly standing upright. As Zhou Qi’an ducked, the black figure briefly took control of the chief’s arm, subtly altering the swing of the bone club.
“Aagh!”
The club smashed into the head of the woman behind him.
Her long hair blocked the view, but Zhou Qi’an was certain he had seen the shape of that shadow.
Taller. Younger… It absolutely did not belong to the village chief.
He suddenly remembered someone: Mu Tianbai.
That man had once used a shadow to help him out of a tight spot.
The shadow vanished in an instant, but Zhou Qi’an forced down his questions and, with a shove, knocked the wicked woman into the vat.
His body was dehydrated; he could barely hold on to the edge of the vat with one hand. Staggering, he called out in a low voice, “Kou Tuo!”
Only if the two of them worked together would they have a chance of reaching the water.
While Zhou Qi’an and Kou Tuo were busy scooping, the young girl, who had used an aggro item, anxiously called from farther away, “Are you done yet?”
She was nearing her limit.
Fearing they’d accidentally shatter the vat in the fight, she and Shen Zhiyi had both instinctively pulled back to increase the distance.
“Are you done yet…”
Just as she was about to repeat herself, two figures suddenly burst through the mist.
The young girl’s face involuntarily lit up with relief. Her smile hadn’t even fully spread when a terrifying heatwave rushed in from behind. Thick smoke instantly rolled in, crushing the mist in the air. The impact made even the air vibrate. Several skeletal figures nearby began to tremble and come apart.
Boom!
An explosion.
…
It had happened so suddenly.
Normally, people would be running forward in a panic, but Shen Zhiyi and Ying Yu both instinctively turned to look behind them—toward a certain figure.
One end of the white silk was tied around a column. Zhou Qi’an used it to propel himself forward, just barely avoiding being blasted off the copper pillars.
He hesitated under the stares. “Why are you looking at me? Run!”
The explosion itself wasn’t that large—it had been centered around the altar.
The real damage came from the blast of scalding heat, which seared their skin.
It was hot.
Oxygen seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by high-density steam that choked the air.
Maybe it was just the aftermath of the explosion, but Zhou Qi’an heard a faint, twisted voice in his mind—like a woman’s curse, full of hatred.
The saintess was angry.
A fury that couldn’t be suppressed.
Strangely, the fury didn’t seem directed at the players, but at the villagers.
In most catastrophes, players were always the first to suffer. But this time, Zhou Qi’an saw several villagers near the altar get blown away, drenched in blood.
He made a quick cross over his chest.
“Praise be to the Lord.”
Kou Tuo, who was running just behind him, twitched at the sight.
The church was huge—it took time to escape it completely.
The final stretch of the floor wasn’t covered in copper pillars, but it wasn’t much better—loose rubble everywhere.
The female teacher almost twisted her ankle. As the clean air outside hit her nose, she nearly offered up a prayer.
“We survived,” she muttered. Several villagers had also been flung outside—whether dead or alive, no one could tell.
One by one, the players emerged.
One Little Red Riding Hood member was missing. Xu Gui was nowhere to be seen either. But no one had the energy to care—they all looked back at the smoke-filled church, trembling.
Kou Tuo was the first to speak. He still looked calm, but his breathing was uneven as he turned directly to Zhou Qi’an.
Kou Tuo had long suspected Zhou Qi’an’s identity.
There was no way a four-star dungeon didn’t have some fresh players to act as buffers. The fact that no one had stood out meant only one thing: someone had disguised themselves extremely well.
Back when the village chief was poisoned, Zhou Qi’an had confidently reassured them—saying he’d tried to kill an NPC before, but burning didn’t work, and neither did explosives.
The chief was tough to kill.
If it wasn’t a joke, Kou Tuo immediately thought of the newbie who’d been trending on the forums recently—
The guy who caused explosions wherever he went.
“You’re him, aren’t you—Area Bomb?”
“???”
The female teacher and young girl blinked. Then they both turned wide-eyed toward Zhou Qi’an.
Zhou Qi’an’s throat was still raw from the heat. He frantically waved his hand, protesting his innocence. “I have no idea why the altar exploded!”
Kou Tuo: “Then reflect on it.”
“…”
Zhou Qi’an actually did start thinking deeply.
Truth be told, he wasn’t confident. The explosion had been way too random. It couldn’t have been caused by simply taking a sample—holy water had already been evaporating.
Did he accidentally do something?
Like touch something he shouldn’t have while scooping the water? Or maybe…
Was it because he stepped into the church with his left foot first?
Nearby, villagers screamed and shouted—mixed with the village chief’s commands, all blending into one loud headache-inducing noise.
Cough…
A sound, unlike the angry shouting, echoed from the smoke.
A slender figure emerged—Xu Gui. She was alive!
Her long dress was tattered. With practiced ease, she tore off the bottom of her skirt and moved easily despite the damage. A cut on her chin oozed blood. Xu Gui casually wiped it away with a scrap of cloth. The fuzz on her chin seemed slightly stiffer now.
“You guys ran pretty fast.”
Just as the others were about to ask how she’d survived, a dead silence fell.
That wasn’t her usual cool female voice—it was a deep, rugged man’s voice.
Zhou Qi’an’s expression was the most dramatic of all.
A thousand images flashed through his mind—why Xu Gui had insisted on solo rooms, refused to bond with teammates despite joining a team—
He’d recruited a cross-dressing man.
Among all the players, the village chief had clearly shown the most initial goodwill toward Xu Gui.
In such a conservative village, though she wore a dress, it had always been long, modest, and plain. Coupled with her cool, ethereal looks, she gave off the air of an otherworldly saint.
Every morning, Xu Gui had been the cleanest, most well-groomed among them.
As the only one who didn’t experience co-ed housing, she had satisfied all the village chief’s rotting ideals.
The saintess was looking for a vessel to reincarnate into—
And “cleanliness” was the most essential trait.
Someone muttered, “If I were the village chief, I’d gouge my own eyes out.”
Rules applied to both players and NPCs.
Putting a man on the altar as the saintess’s vessel? That was practically begging for a divine slap.
Zhou Qi’an looked at this “wild man” Xu Gui and suddenly grabbed his shoulder, shaking him hard.
“I never even suspected your gender, bro!”
Do you feel good about that?!
Xu Gui sat down by the road, legs stretched out, slumping into the most comfortable position possible.
“I call it fate.”
He patted his waist, habitually looking for a cigarette. Realizing they were in a dungeon, he gave up.
“Otherwise, why do you think so many people responded to your recruitment, but you picked me?”
Zhou Qi’an smiled weakly. In his heart, he cursed the college student.
He hadn’t picked Xu Gui himself—he’d sent player photos to a college kid to blind-select one.
In under a minute, the guy had somehow managed to pick out a crossdresser from a sea of candidates.
Xu Gui hooked a finger under the high collar at his neck, letting his Adam’s apple breathe.
“I like dressing up as a woman IRL. I’ve worked at a themed bar before. When the dungeon started, I even used illusion items to reinforce NPCs’ gender stereotypes.”
Silence fell again.
All eyes turned to Zhou Qi’an.
In the end, it had been his recruit that triggered everything.
Zhou Qi’an: “…”
Xu Gui shrugged. “High risk, high reward.”
To match the ancient corpse lore, Zhou Qi’an had decided to bring a female teammate into the dungeon.
But in Xu Gui’s eyes, a player who was perceived as female could have unexpected advantages. After all, there were likely other female players too.
Since the risk was high, he’d come fully prepared—stocked up on various items and set up protections around the altar in advance, which was how he survived the explosion.
Xu Gui glanced at the chaotic church, smiled, and said to Zhou Qi’an, “We made the right bet.”
Without the altar, there’d be no sacrifice. If they were lucky, the saintess might wipe out the whole village in anger.
Though… that was probably wishful thinking.
Zhou Qi’an’s lips twitched. “Just say you made the bet. Don’t drag me into this.”
“Poor village chief,” Zhou Qi’an added theatrically, recovering from the gender shock. “What a tragedy. I wonder what we can do to help them.”
He was clearly enjoying their misfortune.
Suddenly, a voice came from the side: “Give them this—hang it on the altar.”
Zhou Qi’an turned. Shen Zhiyi had somehow found a wooden sign.
It read:
“Under Maintenance. Out of Service.”
“…”
